


Self-Proclaimed Comedian

by SilverSnap420



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 1920's, Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mafiafell (Undertale), Author Is Not Religious, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Crossdressing, Dark Comedy, Demisexuality, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Gore, Humour, Just for Laughs, Mages, Pansexual Character, Papyrus (Undertale) Knows More Than He Lets On, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader Is Not Kris (Deltarune), Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Romance, Sexism, Slow Burn, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, attempted humour, bo burnham is the shit, comedy songs, defo out there, eventually, kind of, ngl, reader has magic, reader is kind of snarky, some burn faster than others tho, some of it may be offensive but i don't mean it to be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27048952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSnap420/pseuds/SilverSnap420
Summary: Papyrus, although he greatly loved the art that was Mettaton's performances, had found someone new to which he found was far better.Meet Y/n, a struggling comedian/singer struggling to make ends meet, and is pretending to be a male to et enough money to pay for her apartment (thanks to employers being able to pay women less than men in the 1920's alternate reality, where the history of the 21st century has occurred, but with the difference of far more sexism, prejudice and discrimination in a 20's fashion)
Relationships: Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader, W. D. Gaster/Reader
Comments: 22
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heya peeps!
> 
> I was inspired (I know, yet another fanfic lol), so I thought I'd give my idea a shot. Hopefully it won't be too bad. Anyways, here you go, and I hope u all enjoy!
> 
> (srry for any mistakes)

Papyrus was annoyed, to say the least. He had just finished one of the many "business" meetings he was due to have that week, and he was already exhausted. The skeleton monster knew that he would have to, as usual, contend with Sans and his revolting habits of slothful slobbery, and Papyrus was in no mood for such monotonous dealings. He already knew that his brother, Wingdings, would have already been in bed after pulling yet another all-nighter what with the invention of their "tools" he was, as usual, concocting.

Also, as usual, Papyrus stood before the building he went to every Wednesday and Saturday to watch the show. Sure, the bar (which was a rather odd mix between theatre and pub, what with the stage and luxurious velvet red curtains that opened upon the beginning of the show and closed at the end, as well as the numerous booths that lined the stage that looked to have belonged to a pub). Whilst there was a hint of sophistication to the place, Papyrus knew that, overall, it was a trash-heap of a place. 

The patrons that often watched the numerous shows of performers that varied from day to day (but had a few long-term regulars, he had discovered), all seemed to be the same: unkempt, unhygienic and more often than not already inebriated enough to not be able to walk in a straight line. Truth be told, he hated the place. Hated the disrespectful sleazy patrons, the greedy owner of the place, the unpleasant bartender and the promiscuous gold-diggers that were the waitresses. Don't get him wrong, he wasn't one to judge on how much sex someone had- he was merely the type to prefer to settle-down and have a long-term relationship than a casual fling (unlike his brother Sans who seemed to bring some stranger into their home every other day). The problem he did have, however, were when such people attempted to manipulate him and try and make unsavoury and unwanted advances towards him (hence "gold-diggers"). 

The stench of the place was what always got him, however. The sweat of humans and that of monsters was punget, and even though he didn't have a nose, that still didn't make the smell any less horrible. Whilst the majority of patrons were human, there were still a great number of monsters also, something that was indeed rare within Ebott City, as the majority who tried to cater to both either explicably went bankrupt from all of the insurance pay-outs from bar-brawls, or had mysteriously been set ablaze by some "faulty wire" or some other lame excuse nobody bought.

When he entered with his chin held high, he openly glared at anyone who dared look in his direction. He knew he was Great and that it was difficult to not go slack-jawed from being in his presence, but that didn't exactly mean he liked being gawked at like a zoo attraction (as was the case with humans), or were shocked to see one of the Gaster brothers at such a hell-hole (as was the case with the monsters). It still surprised the skeleton that the infamous place named "Hicklebuckle's Hut" (in respect to the owner's last name) hadn't either been blown up or gone out of business. Well, The Great Papyrus assumed that it must have been the great influx of patrons that turned up- too drunk to realise that the glass of water they were drinking to sober themselves up was at the very least $5, $5.50 if they asked for ice cubes. Indeed, another thing he added to the list of things he loathed about the place: the extortionate prices.

It wasn't as though he couldn't afford it, but that didn't exactly mean that he liked being taken advantage of. In fact, the amount of times he'd had to rein in his temper over such prices (he'd once had a bottle of wine which had conveniently not been priced on the menu, which led to him having to pay a ridiculous amount that was in the third digits), and were in any other place, he would have killed everyone in that place indiscriminately, making it especially painful. Hell, he'd even fantasised about doing just that, using the dust as a trail and the bones of the human's as pieces to the puzzle he had already devised and memorised for how exactly it would be done. For the lucky person who attempted to solve the puzzle and failed? Beheaded. It wasn't as though they would had very much intelligence within their heads to solve it in the first place, so, what was the point in them having one he had reasoned. For those who solved it? Papyrus scoffed at the notion, but that still didn't mean that he hadn't come up with a _very_ dusty display that it would activate.

He was by far the tallest patron of the place. Hell, the tallest person at any given time (excluding Papyrus, of course) only reached his sternum. Moreover, he was by far the best dressed there: a crisp white suit with red accents, his waistcoat white with red buttons (along with his jacket buttons), a red tie around his neck that was softer than silk, finely pressed white trousers with a red belt and silver buckle, his silver cufflinks being his initials (P.G.) and polished black shoes with a pointed toe. His ensemble was complete with a white felt trilby hat, a hat that Papyrus placed upon the table of the booth he always sat at.

It was always a struggle for the large skeleton to fit in the booth, his long legs having to fold uncomfortably and his back having to hunch slightly. Still, despite this, it made him look no less intimidating and no less dignified. Papyrus eyed the place with abhorrent revulsion, not at all hiding his disdain towards others who sat in other booths near his own as well as the exposed table directly in front of the stage, the curtains still being closed. Despite the place being rather dark and smoky from all of the irritating cigars both humans and monsters alike seemed to enjoy smoking, Papyrus, with his great eyesight, could see everything as though the place was shrouded in light. For those who snuck quick looks in his direction, their conversations murmured whispers, they couldn't help but be unnerved by his frightening eyes that seemed to glow in the dark booth he sat at.

Much like everything else about himself, Papyrus loved his eyelights. After all, who wouldn't love the colour of such a superior food that is spaghetti, or, most specifically, his beloved marinara sauce? That was what he likened them to when he looked at himself in the mirror every morning, cursing his brother who never seemed to care that the bathroom was occupied, ambling about his business lazily as Papyrus proceeds to kick his coccyx out of the bathroom. 

The first time he had gone into that shit-tip of a place, was during a meeting between that territories Boss and himself. He really didn't want to go, but his eldest brother Wingdings had insisted, claiming that he would owe Papyrus a favour. Not only that, but Papyrus saw past his poor attempt to stroke his ego when he said, "I wouldn't have anyone else, other than your great self, the responsibility to see to this and see that it goes well". Papyrus knew he was Great, but he also knew when his brother was just trying to, as usual, sweet-talk him into doing something they both ultimately knew he didn't want to do. He always did it, and Wingding knew that with his charismatic personality (not as suave as the Great Papyrus, but the skeleton had to give credit when it was due) he could very easily get away with it. Papyrus was convinced that with his silver tongue, Wingdings could even convince a monster falling down to reconsider their choice. So with that in mind the youngest Gaster brother had complied, barely managing to keep himself in check from throttling the perverted Boss' puny neck, but he had managed: what else would be expected of The Great Papyrus?

There was only one reason why he was demean himself in being in such a place as Hicklebuckle's Hut, and it was the very same reason for why he he went to such a place every Wednesday and Saturday. It was the only reason why he could tolerate (if barely) everything that he hated about the place, and the only reason why he was able to put up with the noisy chatter and crowded building (as it was a Saturday). His important thoughts were interrupted by none other than the owner of the place he wanted nothing more than to smother with their relative's corpse. "Hello, Mr. Gaster!" he greeted with a greasy smile, hair slicked back from having far too much hair gel. He wore a simple stained white shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves, his trousers clearly having been ripped and patched up. Despite his dishevelled appearance, Papyrus knew that Hicklebuckle was filthy rich. Not as wealthy as he and his brothers, but he came relatively close.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" shouted Papyrus seething with anger. 

Unperturbed, Hicklbuckle chuckled, "Hey, no need for that! Just came to greet my regular, is all. I clearly came at a bad time, so, why don't I treat you to a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon? I know its your favourite. And don't worry, its on the house!" Papyrus could identify brown-nosing when he saw. Wanting the human to leave his presence, he curtly nodded, turning back towards the stage. Hicklebuckle merely chuckled at his behaviour, practically skipping out back where he kept "all of the good stuff" (good stuff according to him, but the only endurable swill he had was Cabernet Sauvignon, and even then, it always seemed to taste slightly off to the tall skeleton). 

Papyrus impatiently checked his silver pocket watch, his foot tapping against the ground as he waited. It was the very reason behind his regular visits that finally emerged on the stage, the curtains withdrawing, revealing a human performer Papyrus could never take his eyes off of. All the chatter quietened down as they looked, the stage lights finally being turned on, revealing who Papyrus always loved to see. It was a male human dressed up in a Vicar's attire, glasses placed on the bridge of their nose and their short hair combed back.

The male human smiled to the audience as everyone clapped and whistled when they realised just who it was who was performing, who performed every Wednesday and every Saturday evening at 10:00pm sharp. Papyrus, from all his times of watching this particular human perform, had always admired their punctuality, as he too shared that trait (unlike his older brother Sans, who Papyrus had often said would be late to his own funeral).

Along with the human of Papyrus' interest was a rather shy-looking leopard monster, who was conventionally very attractive: long shapely legs, large breasts, flowing, long glossy brown hair, large green eyes, soft-looking fur and a small dress that reached her knees (but was hidden mostly by the piano they sat at). Not that such things particularly interested Papyrus, no: it was the human who had his undivided attention, as they always seemed to do whenever he watched them perform.

"Heya ladies and gents!" he greeted. There were several whoops from the crowd and whistles, which seemed to further embolden the performer. He laughed at their enthusiasm, "Who knew that a night of prayer would be so exciting for you guys?"

The crowd laughed and guffawed at their rhetorical question, a soft smile making its way onto Papyrus' sharp features. "I know, I know, it's lovely for me, Pastor Joe, to see all you lot too. You all to me look like a bunch of saints! Here, with you all eating your daily bread," he pointed to one of the monsters in the front of the audience who was casually eating a breadstick until they coughed from everyone laughter, "drinking wine in remembrance," at this the crowd further laughed, cheering and raising their glasses (the majority of which were filled with whiskey and the bar's favoured sex on the beach cocktail), "as well as staying completely pure without giving into your lustful natures!" he then indicated to a particular couple in the very back of the establishment who were having an especially passionate (and drunken) make-out session.

Whilst all this occurred Papyrus was quietly chuckling, eyes gleaming with unbridled mirth. Truly, whenever he wasn't watching the human perform, it was as though he had gone through a thousand years without heartfelt humour. Sure, he had fun on odd occasion and his brothers did amuse him sometimes, but not like how he felt when he watched that passionate human on stage. He admired them greatly, and even enjoyed watching them more than any Mettaton movie or performance. For Papyrus, the knowledge that it was the performer themselves who came up with their material only made him respect them all the more, especially during a time of depression where jobs were few and far between, and gaining a job in entertainment was near impossible. As the human continued, Hicklebuckle finally arrived with what he had promised, filling a glass of wine and leaving both the bottle as well as Papyrus to his own devices. If a normal person was to describe Papyrus, it would be the word "fanboy" that would ultimately spring to mind.

"Now, I know that I won't be here for Valentine's unfortunately," there were a few disappointed boos to this, but the human continued to smile, "but that's why I thought that I should share a little agape love for you guys, how does that sound?" The audience cheered and clapped once more in encouragement, Papyrus too finding himself completely immersed and enthralled.

"Ok then, let us commence our Lord's Prayer on love! Susy, if you would be so kind." The leopard monster blushed, nodding demurely as she began to play the piano.

"[I love you like kings love queens, like a gay geneticist loves designer genes.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kjYE98Co9wM)" he sang, placing a hand upon his chest whilst the other was pointed towards the crowd. 

* * *

"Well, that was tiring." sighed Y/n in exhaustion, leaning back on her chair in her room in the back where she got changed for every performance. It was a normal night filled with the usual regulars and usual faces of those who just stumbled in on a drunken night out with friends. She loved performing, loved it with a passion. The woman could never get enough of the rush she got from being on stage, and the satisfaction of bringing smiles to people's faces (even drunken ones). 

At that moment, she was in her robe about to get dressed before heading home. Luckily, she had Sundays off, but she knew she needed to at least catch up on some sleep for the work she had on Monday, and whilst she thoroughly enjoyed her gigs, it was the getting up early in the morning part that really wasn't her cup of tea. Nor did she like pretending to be a man, but desperate times and all that. The world she had inexplicably found herself in was one where, although monsters had the same rights as humans (even if they were still subject to prejudice and discrimination), the same couldn't be said for women. They got paid less than men, had to put up with far more shit than men etcetera etcetera. It was a nuisance, but she knew that with their views on women, it would have been impossible to have even gotten a job such as hers to begin with. After all, "women weren't funny".

Fucking patriarchy bullshit right there.

So, her breasts were bandaged up, and whilst her alias as a performer was a male name: Joe, to be specific, in everyday life she also had to put up with being referred to as a man and went by the name of "Harris". Hell, she even had to go through the process of wearing a pair of socks down her trousers to resemble having a dick. It was uncomfortable, but if it meant that she was taken seriously and treated as an equal, well then, she was determined to see it through, and she would _persevere_. 

"At least you can stand in front of a crowd confidently!" huffed Susy, crossing her arms as she got ready behind the changing screen (Y/n had to share her dressing room due to the establishment being so small, only having one).

"Eh, I don't really think about coming across as confident." she shrugged nonchalantly. "I just get on with it."

"I wish I could do that!" the human chuckled at her petulant tone, practically hearing her pout. "I'm just sat at the piano, awkwardly playing like a dumbass."

"Aw don't talk about yourself like that, flower. You play amazingly. Besides, I highly doubt anyone noticed your nervousness over your drop-dead gorgeousness."

Y/n chuckled heartily as Susy stuttered, clearly flustered as she was finally dressed in her everyday wear, which consisted of a long black sundress that reached her mid-shin, and over it she wore a tan-coloured coat which was tied around her waist. Y/n then stood up and strolled towards the dressing screen, taking off her dressing gown and putting on her favoured shirt, trousers, suspenders and jacket. As she doing her buttons, there was a startling loud knock on the door.

"Eek!" shrieked Susy, her tail and hair stood on end.

"Who the hell is that?" muttered Y/n inaudibly. She then sighed, "Please could you get that, flower? It might be Hicklebuckle."

Susy huffed and tutted to herself before she swayed over to the door, opening it a fraction. Beneath her fur she paled at the sight that greeted her, frozen on the spot and her eyes wide. As this was going on, Y/n emerged from the dressing screen and walked towards the door whilst doing her last button. "So who is it? It's not Andy coming to bother you again, is it? I told that boy to shove his eco-friendly fertilised roses so far up his arse that at least he wouldn't be talking his usual shit no more, rather he'd be talking horse-shit. I bloody well keep that promise if he's still bothering you, flower."

When she looked up, she was just as surprised as Susy was, although she hid it far better than the feline monster did. Before her stood the tallest being she had ever encountered, marinara-coloured eyelights seemingly glowering down at her. Well, it seemed that he had been looking at Susy, but as soon as he turned to Y/n, his eyelights seemed to flicker to upside down hearts for a brief moment before returning back to their regular sharp circles. "YOU ARE 'JOE', CORRECT?"

Susy trembled at his loud tone, looking between the skeleton and her colleague. Rather than being alarmed, Y/n shocked the leopard monster with how calm and nonchalant they acted. "Sure is, my dude. How can I help you?"

"MAY I SPEAK TO YOU IN PRIVATE?"

Susy looked to Y/n and inadvertently shook her head, silently begging her to not do what she highly suspected they would do. "Ok. Susy, why don't you head on home? Don't want you losing out on sleep now do we, flower?"

Hesitantly, Susy nodded, speeding out of their like a cheetah rather than a leopard, leaving just Y/n and the skeleton alone. She opened the door wider, gesturing him inside, "Why don't you come in?"

With a nod, he confidently walked in to the middle of the room, Y/n closing the door behind him. She placed her hands in her pockets, raising a brow expectantly at him. "So, what's up?"

"MY NAME IS PAPYRUS GASTER. IT IS A PLEASURE TO FINALLY MEET IN PERSON, JOE."

She waved him off, "Please, call me Harris. Joe is my stage name."

The skeleton seemingly blushed before nodding. From Y/n's look, he started to fidget, averting his eyes and looking anywhere but at her. "JOE- _HARRIS_ , MAY I.... MAY I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH?" He seemed increasingly nervous and uncomfortable, an observation that brought a smile to her face. For an intimidating and seemingly aggressive individual, he sure did seem to be looking like a high school boy confessing to their crush. 

With a warm smile and a nod, Papyrus hastily dug into his breast-pocket, taking out what looked to be a brochure of her performance. He handed her the pen and the brochure, looking at her with hearts in his eyes as she signed in. With a flourish, she wrote the message: "Stay sweet cutie-pie." When she handed it to him and he read it, he blushed a great deal, bones thrumming and rattling in joy. "So, how long you been watching my gigs?" she asked conversationally, moving to the dressing table and reaching under it, opening the mini-fridge as she took out a can of soda. She offered Papyrus one, to which he graciously accepted and held it reverently, as though it was the best gift he had ever been given.

"FOR A FEW WEEKS." admitted Papyrus, shuffling uncomfortably as he took a sip of his soda. Y/n sat on the dressing table, cradling her own can as she took a gulp.

"And you've still stuck around?" she smirked in good-humour. "I'm surprised. It's not like I'm _that_ great."

"I HAVE TO DISAGREE, HARRIS." he countered vehemently. "WHAT YOU DO IS A WORK OF ART. REALLY, YOU'RE FAR TOO GOOD FOR A PLACE LIKE THIS."

"Thanks." she said genuinely, surprised at what he thought. It wasn't everyday she actually interacted with a fan. Usually, they were too plastered to remember they had even seen her, let alone enjoyed her show. But this guy, Papyrus? He seemed to actually enjoy what she did. "Place isn't _that_ bad." she added as an afterthought.

Papyrus scoffed, "THIS PLACE IS AN UTTER GREASE-TRAP, FILLED WITH BUMBLING DRUNKEN FOOLS AND UNSAVOURY PEOPLE OF QUESTIONABLE MORALS."

Y/n snorted in response, "Doesn't everyone have 'questionable morals' here, though?"

He nodded, conceding, "I SUPPOSE THAT'S TRUE."

The two were in a rather awkward silence for a few minutes, drinking their soda's every now and again to fill the silence. "You know," she began, breaking the silence, "you're the first person to actually seek me out."

"REALLY?!" he seemed both shocked and enraged at the thought. "YOU SHOULD BE CELEBRATED. EVERY SINGLE PERFORMER HERE IS LACK-LUSTRE AND COMPLELETY INCOMPETANT. BUT YOU, YOU I CAN ACTUALLY TOLERATE."

"Pfft. 'Tolerate', how lovely of you to say."

"INDEED." he agreed, completely missing her sarcasm. He looked to have been about to say something else when his eyelights widened. He pointed to her chest, much to her confusion. "WHAT IS THAT?"

When she looked down, she gulped, paling and sweating considerably. It looked as though her bandages had loosened slightly, her right boob free and being visible due to the subsequent bump in her shirt. "...Well shit."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya peeps!
> 
> Here's the next chap for u all, I hope u enjoy!
> 
> (srry if the mixing of pronouns for the reader is confusing, I'm just changeing perspective ever so slightly in the third person to show you Paps' thoughts)

Y/n had no idea what she should do- scratch that, she knew _exactly_ what she was going to do, and that was lie. The problem was coming up with one which was plausible and executed in a way which sounded genuine. She couldn't afford to lose her job, the other one she had for the rest of the week really didn't do much to pay her rent and utilities, her gigs being the final factor that actually helped her afford one. In the city, it cost a small fortune to rent an apartment, even the shitty one she was regrettably holed up in. If she was found out, that would not only result in her being fired, she would lose her place and become homeless. All the shelters were filled to the brim, and they were specifically tailored for men. If she was found out, news would spread like wildfire, and she would subsequently have to live on the streets.

Everyone knew that a woman being homeless was an instant sentence to humiliation, rape, beaten the shit out of and eventually death. For a man? A warm place for the night and a cup of joe awaited them, the daily newspaper for their entertainment. For society, a woman who managed to find themselves homeless was clearly their own fault, as was leaving themselves vulnerable to be violated in the first place. After all, what kind of woman were they if they weren't married and bearing their husband's children, raising them at home like a good little housewife?

That kind of lifestyle never appealed to Y/n. No, she wanted respect, recognition. She wasn't ashamed of being a woman, and no matter what society felt on that, she knew that she deserved to be recognised as an equal, not as some toy to be used for sexual gratification and tossed away when said toy asked to be given some semblance of independence. Some people may say that it was her pride and arrogance, but to her, she thought it was merely the recognition of how she could just as easily break someone's nose than the next man could, if not more easily.

They said that a woman ought to stay at home and be catered to by her husband? She worked and lived alone, just the way she liked it. They said that a woman ought to keep her eyes down and speak only when spoken to? She looked them right in the eye and became an entertainer, just the way she liked it. Others called this deviant whilst she called it self-respect.

She would persevere if it meant that she got what her heart, her very soul, desired. Ultimately, her goal was to become the next great comedian/singer in the country, only to turn around, take off her bandages, reveal just how femininity did not equate to weakness and being boring. Y/n often caught herself imagining the looks on their faces when they discovered that their favourite comedian was not only a great actor, but a woman to boot. That, was her lifetime ambition, and she was determined to get it, and she would persevere.

Would this Papyrus fella know about human anatomy? He looked to be a mobster, and being a mobster meant dealings in painful yet swift deaths for both humans and monsters alike. Based on that, she would have to take a guess that he could probably recognise that a man didn't normally have breasts. So, what looked like a lump yet wasn't. A tumour, perhaps? One that she covers up? No. He was technically her first fanboy. It wouldn't exactly be good to show him weakness (as him discovering that she was a woman was a risk she wasn't willing to take), especially due to him being a mobster. Y/n then thought of an idea, but it was a gamble. She had heard once (she couldn't remember where, but she had definitely heard it from somewhere) that some monsters had the ability of being the best lie-detectors. It was something to do with the soul and frequencies, she recalled vaguely.

So, that ruled out lying outright (she didn't know if he possessed the ability, but she was going to take precautions regardless). But did that rule out a lie of omission? Hmm. It was difficult, but she did have an idea in mind. Maybe it could work if she simply said a statement? By ignoring his question and acting as though she was answering it when really she wasn't addressing the question at all could work. It was a possibility, but still a gamble nonetheless.

She was willing to take that chance.

"$90. I get paid weekly by Hicklebuckle, and it's a habit I can't shake that I hide it in my shirt." It was true: for two gigs, she got $90, and for her week job it paid a measly $50 for four days a week, meaning that after paying her weekly rent of $130, she had $10 left for food. The rent would have been even more expensive if she hadn't managed to sweet talk her landlady into letting her off $20. Not only that, but she used to have a habit of putting her money in her bra when she used to wear one (as pretending to be a man had essentially become a full-time job), and she had caught herself numerous times about to put it into her shirt before realising that she wasn't wearing a bra to put the money in to. When she fully comprehended what she said, she had to bite down a laugh at what it implied. She couldn't help but think something along the lines of "$90 if you want to cop a feel". That inspired her for what she may add to her performance the next week, which improved her mood significantly despite the tense circumstances.

Papyrus was rather confused. He hadn't seen the lump on the human male's chest when the monster, "Susy", he believed she was called, had opened the door. Unless he just hadn't noticed it? It was reasonable, after all. He had just met his idol, and he was even given a drink by them! Sure, he was never a fan of junk food, nor fizzy drinks, but the fact that Harris of all people had given it to him made him decide that he would keep the can and keep it on display in his room besides his well-hidden guilty pleasure: his merchandise collection. There was a wide array of villain figurines from his favourite comics, the tickets he bought to one of Mettaton's shows and his other most prized possessions (including the confetti Harris had thrown yet another one of his amazing shows).

Not only that, but due to his limited experience with the money humans seemed adamant about using (as monsters used the far superior currency of gold coins) he wasn't able to fully recognise it when he saw it. Even though he didn't have his brothers' ability to sense lies, he knew that he could still relatively pick them out. Not that he needed to, heavens no. His idol Harris was one far above the use of lies, and why exactly would he need to? Although, there was a boiling anger in his soul that Harris (he still just couldn't believe that he was able to call him by his actual name) that he was paid so little.

He was still somewhat confused for why Harris would put his money there, but upon consideration, Papyrus couldn't help but feel even more admiration and respect for him. It was utter genius! It meant that Harris could keep a closer watch on his money, thus would make it far more difficult for people to pickpocket him (something that was prevalent in both the human and monster areas of the city). Papyrus then thought of a better solution if hiding his money was the issue. The Great Papyrus was always willing to help his friends, and he was determined to befriend his idol.

"I WOULD SUGGEST HIDING YOUR MONEY UNDER THE INNER SOLE OF YOUR SHOE." he helpfully recommended, sharp smile smug which seemed to make his canines look even larger and sharper. If she hadn't witnessed him lowkey fan-boying earlier, she would have been intimidated and shivered at the thought of his ripping her throat out.

She smiled, "Thanks for the advice, my dude. I'll keep it in mind."

He blushed and quickly looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. "THINK NOTHING OF IT."

"Welp," she sighed, buttoning up her large jacket so that her boob slip wouldn't be noticed, "I need to go, got to catch up on some beauty sleep. Not that I need it, I'm beautiful enough." She battered her lashes and pouted, earning a loud guffaw from the skeleton monster as he laughed. It surprised her: she was expecting an eyeroll, or at most a chuckle, but a mad cackle? She wasn't even being that funny. She internally shrugged, supposing that if the hint of wine she smelled from him was any indication, he may have been a little tipsy.

"OH." he seemed disappointed, which made Y/n feel guilty for some reason. Well, despite his appearances, he seemed rather decent, she guessed. As she opened the door and gestured for him to leave first, he paused mid-stride before looking down at her, "WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO EXCHANGE NUMBERS, HARRIS?"

She blinked in surprise, craning her neck so that she could look him in the eye. Was it unprofessional to give him her number? Maybe. But did that outweigh the possible benefits? Not only did she want to get to know him (he looked really classy and someone classy being in that place at all had peaked her interest), as well as the fact that he was her fan, thus may be interested in giving her useful feedback. He'd have early access to drafts of her gigs (if he was wanting to help that was, it wasn't like she'd force him), and she'd be able to test her material and see what was good and what needed improvement.

He seemed incredibly nervous, if his slight fidgeting was anything to go by. He seemed like a nice enough guy, so maybe she should give it a shot? It wasn't as though she hadn't any friends outside of Susy, anyway. Even with the slight feeling of dread, hope warmed her chest as she grinned, "Sure thing, my dude." Whilst he seemed ecstatic and shocked, she couldn't help but notice that it was the second time his socket had twitched when she called him "dude". It was then that Y/n instantly knew that getting to know him and just being an all round little shit was just the thing she wanted to.

When she typed in his number, she thought for a moment or two before a devious smirk flashed across her face. Y/n then made the effort of putting his name as "Marinara Dude". They both then left the room and walked out of the establishment together, once again in silence. This quiet, however, was at least a bit more comfortable than the previous one, much to the relief of both.

When they exited, Papyrus looked down at her before bidding farewell, "I SHALL CONTACT YOU SOON. GOOD BYE." Before she could utter a word, he sped off down the street, walking at a speed that rivalled the fastest human runner. That then left Y/n alone and bewildered as she looked at where he once stood. She shook off her daze and shrugged, before spinning on her heel and entering a dark alley that was next to Hicklbuckle's Hut, just like she always did at the end of a gig. Y/n looked around for any straggling drunks, and when she was satisfied that there was no one around, she merged with the darkness.

* * *

Papyrus had quite literally ran all the way home, all five miles in fact. Not that it was anything difficult for The Great Papyrus, but he still seemed to be out of breath, nonetheless. But that was most likely due to what had just transpired. After weeks of warring with himself for whether he should introduce himself or not, he finally did it. He hadn't made the conscious decision to actually go see him, as it was as though he wasn't in control of his actions. That evening had been full of surprises for the skeleton, all of which were pleasant ones.

The skeleton recognised that for any performer, they were not what they presented themselves to be on stage as they were every day. That fact had made him even more anxious, but to his relief, everything had gone well. Perfectly, even. He had found out that he was the first dedicated fan of his (a fact he was immensely proud of), he had gotten his autograph, received a soda from him and had even gotten his number! Speaking of which, Papyrus immediately got out his phone and began to message him, but paused. What should he say? He really wanted to meet up with him elsewhere in a far better location that befitted both the Great Papyrus and Harris. Would that be too forward? He really wanted to get to know the real Harris, not just his stage persona. He didn't exactly want to scare him off, which was a distinct possibility.

Steeling himself (he was not nervous: The Great Papyrus was never nervous), he typed: "WOULD YOU LIKE TO MEET AT CITY PARK THIS THURSDAY?"

He then added, "I HOPE YOU ALSO HAVE A PLEASANT EVENING. "

As he entered his large mansion that he shared with his brothers, he heard his phone notify him that he had received a message. Before he could check, however, he caught Wingdings stood before the grand marble staircase, tapping his foot impatiently with his arms crossed. Papyrus almost broke out into a anxious sweat from the piercing glare his oldest brother was giving him. "You were late for dinner." he croaked, making Papyrus flinch from his harsh, cold tone. "Care to explain why?"

Shaking off his fear, he glared, "HOW IS THAT ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS, BROTHER?"

This clearly wasn't how Papyrus was supposed to response, as Wingdings seemed to get even angrier. The room seemed to darken and drop several degrees, his violet eyelights glowing menacingly. Before he could react, Papyrus was hoisted in the air by multiple large, clawed skeletal hands. He struggled against their grip in vain, eventually giving up (he knew all too well that once someone was in his brother's grasp, no one could escape him).

Papyrus was held at eye-level to him (as Windings was a good foot and a half taller than his youngest brother), which made the youngest skeleton inadvertently shiver. "I'm waiting." he hissed, his signature croak still prevalent.

The youngest skeleton knew that Wingdings wouldn't be happy in the slightest to find out where he'd been and why. That was why he had kept it a secret all those weeks. His brothers had questioned him, but when they saw that he wasn't going to let up and answer, they chose to just leave it (as he was still on time and continued to work diligently). However, Papyrus being late for dinner whilst Wingdings was sleep deprived was not a good idea at all. Papyrus hadn't even noticed that he was uncharacteristically late, but what he did know, was that he couldn't lie to his brother, as he would be able to sense his dishonesty instantly.

"I SIMPLY LOST TRACK OF THE TIME." responded Papyrus, sockets narrowing defiantly.

A mocking smirk curled at Wingdings' cracked features. "Oh? You, The Great Papyrus, 'simply lost track of the time'?" He leaned in so that he was nasal cavity to nasal cavity. He sneered, "Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"I WON'T BE LATE AGAIN. YOU HAVE MY WORD, BROTHER." he vowed.

"Hmm." he hummed, expression turning thoughtful as he slowly and carefully lowered his youngest brother to the ground. "I shan't press you, for now. But you will tell me in time." With that he silently disappeared into thin air, leaving a panicked Papyrus in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya peeps!
> 
> Thank u for reading and I hope u all have a great day! :)
> 
> (srry for any mistakes and I hope this chap wasn't too bad. It will get better, promise)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya peeps!
> 
> Here's the next chap, so I hope u all enjoy!

"Welcome ladies and gents!" boomed Y/n, her arms wide in a welcoming manner as her audience cheered and whistled, clapping enthusiastically. It had been a few days since she met with the skeleton Papyrus, who had been texting her non-stop ever since he had gotten her number. Not that she was complaining: it distracted her from her boring weekly job that was working at a rather small shop, stocking shelves and checking inventory. "Thank you all for coming to my show! I've realised that the majority of you right now are completely new to Hicklebuckle's Hut, so, I guess I need to introduce myself."

"I hope you all don't mind that, well, I find that I'm, a rather romantic, dramatic man-"

"A gay one!" shouted a heckler, earning a laugh from the audience.

Rather than be annoyed, Y/n simply chuckled, "Well, your dad would know wouldn't he?" She then winked and blew a kiss in his direction, making the audience laugh uproariously, much to the heckler's embarrassment.

She then continued with a beaming smile, "-and, I find that I have been in a very classical mood lately, reading works of Shakespeare and such which provide a great deal of inspiration for me. So, I thought that my introduction should somewhat resemble such beautiful works. Anyway, let me introduce myself in this rather romantic, sophisticated poem that I have devised."

She then took a breath, sitting on a stool as she crossed one leg over the other, pushing up a pair of reading glasses that were perched precariously on the bottom of her nose. She casually licked her finger, turning the page of a small black notebook that she held on her lap. In a professional tone of voice, she began to read from the notebook. "Yo, my name be Joe." 

The audience laughed as she turned another page. "I fuck yo hoe, on the down low, that's fo sho." She then turned another page, pushing up her glasses again as she continued, "But what I didn't expect, was for that hoe to be a bro named Moe. But I didn't care, because your hoe who was a bro called Moe had so much dough."

The crowd laughed and clapped as she continued, licking her finger and turning another page, "I went to my girl's house and I fucked her good. I was sat on her dad's couch as she sat with a slight slouch, and let's just say that she had the bee's knees as with a kneel she had a _mighty fine_ meal. She was then on the floor, being a bore. I said as much then she said when I came I was _totally_ lame. And with cum on her bum looking oh so glum, I told that chick to suck my dick, only then her dad came in with a Glock, and then slipped me a real hard cock-block." 

"Yes, in this poem her dad shot my dick off, and now?" she then stood from her stool, reached into her breast jacket pocket and tossed some pink glitter to the crowd with a flamboyant flick of her wrist, "I couldn't feel more fabulous!"

It was jokes like those which made it difficult to not grind her teeth to dust. Was she the one who thought of them and orchestrated them? Yes, she was. Was she particularly happy that she had to make jokes like that? No, she wasn't. It wasn't up to her, though. Comedians were slaves to public opinion: to be funny, they needed to be relatable; they needed to express the "modern opinion" as people in the business called it, in order to stay funny and stay relevant. To an audience, they saw someone making a fool of themselves simply for their own amusement. To the person on stage? They saw a pack of wolves ready to chow down on the next slaughtered lamb.

The cheering and laughter always did manage to bring a smile to her face, but it wouldn't be a lie to admit that she was ashamed of herself for feeling that way, even though it was one of the most important reasons why she became a comedian/singer in the first place.

"Thank you! Really, thank you for all of this, and being here tonight. Honestly, I'm sure my dad would be proud if he came back from the store for the pack of cigarettes. And my mum, too: if she paid attention to my existence at all, that is."

The audience guffawed and clapped enthusiastically. She then turned her attention to Susy, who was one again nervously fidgeting by the piano. "Now that I've introduced myself, I can't help but really want to tell you about my life for some inexplicable reason. Maybe because everyone hates me- well, jokes on them because I'll always hate myself more!" she exclaimed, garnering a few more laughs and cheers, "But, I really wanna talk about, about my own childhood, I guess (seen as though no one was ever there to listen to them anywhere as my mum shagged the milkman and my dad was making an honest man of himself and sucking a politician's dick for a dollar). So, what I'm getting at is, well, here's a little tune about my experience at my Highschool Party!"

Susy then began to play a few notes on the piano, adamantly not looking up from the keys as to avoid eye-contact with the audience, "[Highschool party senior year, boys and girls they're all sipping on beer, I like soda, where's the soda, am I the only fucking person here who likes soda](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vvo4ByTR7QY)?" she sang flamboyantly. 

* * *

"That was tiring." she huffed in exhaustion, her back slouched as she laid her head on her folded arms that were on her dresser. 

She could practically hear the eyeroll as Susy responded, "You always say that."

"Doesn't make it any less true." she snorted, leaning back and folding her arms behind her head, closing her eyes. It didn't take long for Susy to finish and wave goodbye, quickly exiting the building which just left Y/n by herself in the room. She was drifting to sleep before a knock startled her, making her fall to the ground roughly as she groaned at the impact. "I usually like eating carpet, but this is just taking the cake." she grumbled under her breath, jumping to her feet and dusting herself off before she approached the door, opening it wide with an unimpressed look gracing her features.

The look immediately faded when she realised that it was Papyrus who had knocked, putting her in a far better mood already. "Heya dude!" she greeted happily, "Didn't expect to see you so soon!"

"I CAME TO CONGRAGULATE YOU ON YET ANOTHER GOOD SHOW. THAT, AND I ALSO HAVE BROUGHT COMPANY, IF YOU DO NOT MIND?" at the last part he looked away from her, tapping his phalanges against his arm anxiously. Having realised what she said, she looked next to him to find a portly gentlemen with a thick film of sweat on his brow. He wiped away at his with a handkerchief, nervously glancing everywhere as though he was looking for an escape. He started when he realised that Y/n (or Harris) was looking at him, as he gulped loudly.

With a quick glare sent his way by Papyrus, the skeleton grabbed him roughly by the collar as he yanked him into the room, a fierce scowl on his face. "WHY DON'T YOU TAKE A SEAT, HARRIS? I DO BELIEVE THAT MY AQUAINTANCE WISHES TO SPEAK TO YOU ABOUT SOMETHING." Papyrus glowered at the shorter, fatter man (as he was a human) threateningly, making the poor man sweat even more as he clutched his chubby hands to his chest.

Y/n was very intrigued, but she didn't exactly like how he almost seemed to be there against his will, his his discomfort and the constant snarl on Papyrus' face was anything to go by. Not wanting to incur his wrath herself, she immediately went over to the seat in front of the dresser and plopped herself down, successfully feigning a nonchalant attitude. If she was being honest, she was just as unnerved as the human man was, as with a quick glance to Papyrus he looked at her. He laughed nervously, "Y-yes, I'm here to speak a-about your future c-career opportunities."

The man then began to ramble and stutter from Papyrus' heated gaze, "I-I wish t-to possibly h-hire you. I h-have seen you p-perform, and I am i-indeed impressed. Y-you would be working a-at the Theatre this S-Sunday, at e-eleven pm."

"IT WILL PAY FAR BETTER THAN THIS... _PLACE_ , HAS _EVER_ PAID YOU. MANY RICH MONSTERS OFTEN GO THERE ON SUNDAYS DUE TO MANY BUSINESSES HAVING TO CLOSE, MEANING THAT THERE'S PLENTY OF BUSINESS." The skeleton mobster knew that he didn't need to worry about his idol Harris being a monsterphobe, as he could very easily tell that he was a very tolerant and accepting man, a great deal more so than the rest of the humans he'd had the displeasure of conversing with- more so than most _monsters_ even, Papyrus admitted. Initially, he had been worried about that before he had introduced himself to him, but when he had actually spoken to the human, he couldn't help but feel a pleasant hum in his soul for how casually he spoke to him, especially given his stature and appearance. It didn't escape the skeleton's notice that his Greatness often inspired fear in others, but not with Harris.

That fact alone made the youngest Gaster brother made him adore Harris even more.

It was a tricky situation, to be sure. Under normal circumstances, Y/n would have kindly refused and made an effort herself to gain the connections needed to become more successful as an entertainer, preferring her hard work and its rewards over being handed to her unfairly. However, a part of her knew that it was an opportunity she just couldn't pass up, and not only that, but she had a suspicion that the menacing skeleton wouldn't take no for an answer, or worse, wouldn't take kindly to her refusal. It was completely obvious that he had dragged the poor man with him to offer her the job. Should she say no, and keep her pride and self-respect? Should she say yes, and be able to better afford her crappy place of residence and not worry about her spending on essentials? Unfortunately, Y/n already knew the answer to that.

"Sure, why not?" she shrugged, making the human sigh in relief as Papyrus hummed in approval. Curiously, she questioned, "What would I get paid, exactly?"

"$300 per evening." replied the man, sweating less than he was earlier.

Harris couldn't help but gape at the pair, which only seemed to amuse Papyrus as a small red blush flushed his cheekbones. "NYEH HEH, THE HUMAN IS CORRECT, HARRIS. THIS WILL ONLY BE THE STARTING SALARY, OF COURSE. AS YOU GAIN IN POPULARITY (SOMETHING THAT I GUARANTEE WILL OCCUR), YOU WILL GET PAID MORE MONEY."

Although Papyrus had successfully paid the large man to allow her to work there, the one thing that he was surprisingly adamant about was the starting price of her earnings. Papyrus wasn't too thrilled, believing that Harris should get more, but he knew with his soon to be increase in influence (that being Harris') would amount to having him even more money, and he knew that his idol would work hard for the money. After all, he had witnessed first hand how hard the human worked during Monday and Tuesday. The unsavoury people he had to deal with (the rude ones in particular) made Papyrus' marrow boil and his phalanges itch to snap their frail little necks, but he managed to refrain from doing so, knowing that getting rid of the bodies and evidence would be too much hassle in the long run, and he didn't want Sans or Wingdings to question why he randomly exterminated a bunch of worthless humans in the first place.

Papyrus then looked down at the man and commanded coldly, "NOW LEAVE." He didn't have to be told twice as he waddled out of the room, practically running as though his very life depended on it, leaving Y/n and Papyrus once again left alone in the changing room. "ARE YOU STILL WANTING TO GO TO CITY PARK TOMORROW?" shifted Papyrus, looking at the opposite wall intently.

"Is the afternoon alright? I have a late shift so the evening I can't do."

"OF COURSE!" blushed Papyrus, seemingly flustered at the confirmation. "ARE THERE ANY ACTIVITIES THAT YOU WISH TO DO WHILST WE ARE OUT?"

"Not really." she shrugged. "Just want to get to know you, is all." She wasn't exactly lying as it was true. However, she really didn't want to have to pay for anything (she doubted her wallet had enough money as it was to buy a bag of crisps, let alone a fancy meal), and not only that, but she didn't want to owe Papyrus anything more than she already did. It was never wise to owe a mobster money, even a seemingly sweet-natured (if a little aggressive) one. She would have gladly paid for him if she had the money, but unfortunately, she'd have to work first and get paid at the end of the week before she'd be able to buy him a salad. The city was expensive, after all, and she was barely managing. 

That brought about a furious blush on Papyrus' face as he laughed nervously, "NYEH HEH, I AGREE."

"Agree with getting to know yourself?" smirked Y/n.

The comedian/singer couldn't help but be amused by how flustered he became, and reluctantly admitted that even with his intimidating appearance, he was rather adorable. "NYOO HOO HOO! THAT ISN'T WHAT I MEANT- I MEANT GETTING TO KNOW _YOU_ , HARRIS! I ALREADY KNOW MYSELF, THAT IS THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" he managed to barely say. He then nervously notified, "I'LL BE LEAVING NOW. GOOD BYE!" 

He then bounded through the door, the door itself collapsing to the ground as he raced off. In the distance, Harris heard a yelp and a feminine scream along with the smashing of glass. Worried, Harris ran out of the room, being careful of the broken door she knew she'd have to replaced as she looked around, finding that a woman was shivering in fright as glass surrounded her. Did Papyrus really..? No, he wouldn't have done, right?

A group of people who had heard the commotion ran to the woman, attempting to find out what the hell happened. Through the woman's stammered hysterics, Y/n was able to deduce what had happened. It seemed that Papyrus had in fact leaped through the closed window, what with the scattered glass and the woman having been scared due to a large scary skeleton who, to her at the time, seemed to be running at her. 

Y/n inconspicuously whistled a tuneless tune as she turned on her heel and exited the building amidst the chaos as everyone tried to comfort the woman and find out what they should do about the window. She didn't want to stay around in case she was forced to pay for the window along with the door she knew would come out of her pay check, as it was her guest who broke it in the first place. She was about to do as she usually did by merging with the darkness to get home before she heard a scuffle and a loud cry. What was it with that evening and people crying?

Her curiosity won out as she looked out of the alley she was in and peaked into another one that was across the street. Three men were laughing uproariously as they roughly threw a woman into the darkness, her pleas falling on deaf ears as they jeered and taunted her. "We know you're a mage, bitch!" shouted one of them, backhanding her with such force that she collapsed to the ground. She tried to crawl away from them, her eyes not leaving theirs as tears cascaded down her rouge cheeks.

That made Y/n sigh as she calmly strode across the street, able to skilfully hide her boiling rage. It was common knowledge that, among the humans, that there was a social hierarchy. Monsters, to the humans at least, were considered to be inferior. Mages? They were considered to be the lowest of the low, worth less than the dirt beneath their boots. That was why many mages were in hiding, making sure that no one found out that they had magic. Mages were also persecuted by monsters, who were frustrated with the injustices they faced on a day to day basis by humans, so most took their anger out on them if a mage was discovered. The law didn't care if you were a monster the best of times, but mages? They were fair game for those with a lust for violence.

"I-I'm not! Please don't h-hurt me!" sobbed the woman, as one of the men harshly grabbed her upper arm and pulled hr face to his vile one.

"I saw you use magic, whore. Ain't no use hiding it. Why not give me and my boys a good time? It's the least you can do for existing in the first place." he spat, his putrid saliva dripping down her cheek as she clawed at his hand that held her in a vice-like grip.

"Good evening, gentlemen." greeted Y/n jovially, a polite smile expertly concealing her true emotions, the ones that threatened to bubble to the surface. All her life she had to act, so it was only natural for her to continue to do so, even in situations such as those she found herself in.

"The fuck do you want?" snapped one of the men who were watching the woman's struggle with sadistic glee, his burning glare having no affect on Y/n as she sauntered up to them, her hands in her trouser pockets.

"Who are you?" asked one of them, irritated.

Y/n smirked, "Just your average Joe, nothing special really." She didn't take care to elaborate as she waited patiently for them to make the first move.

"Ah, you want in on some of the action?" sneered a brunette, a knowing smirk curling at his stubbled features. "You'll have to wait for the leftovers if you want some."

"Afraid that isn't what I'm here for." she sighed, sounding convincingly regretful.

"Then fuck off!" spat the one holding the woman, the three men stalking towards Y/n with sneers on their faces. He grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, shoving her to the wall as they swarmed around her. "If you ain't here to fuck the slut like the rest of us, then why're you here?! I won't ask again: _fuck off_!"

"My reason for being here?" she smiled pleasantly, her eyes gleaming. "To be a distraction."

When the men finally registered what she said, they all cursed as they looked to where the woman was, finding an empty alley. The man holding her snarled before punching her, making her land harshly on the ground. "This is what you get, bastard!" he bellowed, kicking her in the gut multiple times in succession before easing up, panting heavily and a self-satisfied grin on his face. His companions too began to kick her prone form, eventually leaning down and punching her again, before they all stood up and looked down at her. The men's grins all dropped and their mouths agape as they heard her chuckle, gripping her stomach as she propped her back against the grimy wall.

She spat blood on the ground, her bruise already swelling on her reddened cheek as she looked up at the men, who had all taken a step back in shock. They were further confused from the genuine amusement on her face. "The fuck you laughing at?!" one of them managed to say, their pitch higher in their fear. The men had all of the power in that situation, the odds in their favour for three against one. They believed that the man they had just attacked deserved the beating, there was no doubt about that. Not only that, but he had left himself completely wide open to be attacked in the first place. Bruised and battered and clutching his injured ribs. He was bleeding, looked to have been unable to stand, and yet...

They were all terrified.

It was something primal, something that they couldn't quite put into words. To them, he was injured, cornered, unable to move, and yet that look he was giving them was sending chills down their spines as they unconsciously took a few steps back. There was something off about him, something not quite right. The glint in the injured man's eyes was dark, yet seemed to get darker as the darkness kept growing. The trio would have made moves to run away, if not only would it have hurt their foolish pride, but they were unable to move in the first place- frozen to the earth as their mouths dried and sweat beaded down their foreheads and necks.

Y/n hacked a cough as she continued to grip her broken ribs, her smile hiking up with humour. "Is that all?" she questioned, her voice hoarse yet the sound of it made them flinch as though they were struck with a knife. She stood up, startling the trio further as their backs were against the opposite wall, trembling. "I'll be leaving, gentlemen."

With a pained grin, she stepped back into the wall and disappeared leaving the men alone as one of them actually pissed themselves with fright, eyes wide and teeth clattering.

* * *

Sans was annoyed, to say the least. He'd been trying to get some skirt at his favourite bar, Grillby's, but none of them seemed interested. It was agitating. Did they think they were too good for him?! That thought got his teeth grinding and his fists clenching, his gold tooth reflecting the street lamp light as he exhaled clouds of brick red smoke, his scarlet eyelights looking around his surroundings. It was another quiet, boring night. He sighed, taking his thick cigar out of his mouth as he extinguished it with his heel, his black leather Italian shoes well polished and well taken care of. Not that he cared- oftentimes when it was an especially lazy day for the lazy skeleton, he would just wear comfortable sweatshirts and sweatpants, lounging in his room as he binge-watched the latest programs on a streaming service he could never remember the name of. Hell, he would do that everyday if he could (if he didn't have a reputation to uphold or want his brothers hounding him to wear it). Sure, every now and again he liked wearing his usual pristine black suits, red waistcoats and red ties, but some days he just wanted to relax. It was hard work being a mobster, after all. Especially being a mobster that was a Gaster Skeleton.

With the pleasant thought of sleeping, he took a shortcut to go home like he usually did (no way was he going to walk five miles all the way back home when he was just so bone-tired). Well, it would have been normal, if he hadn't felt an unfamiliar tug practically drag him somewhere else. It was as though he was fighting off vipers, ones that were ensuring him and taking him to wherever the hell it was it was taking him. Never had he felt anything like that in the Void. Hell, you're not supposed to feel anything (in his experience at least he has never felt anything), as it was a simple area filled with complete nothingness.

"Fuck!" swore Sans, as he was dragged to an unfamiliar location. With an undignified grunt, he landed in what appeared to be a stingy living room in a small apartment. He could tell everything was practically second hand, what with the moth-eaten sofa and the old tv that still had a back to it rather than being flat screen, as well as the wooden coffee table that looked half-chewed, as though a dog had been especially overzealous in it's munching of it. Sans adjusted himself as he used the sofa as leverage to stand up, having to hunch over due to the low ceiling (well, it was regular size, meaning that it was small for the huge skeleton). It was a struggle to manoeuvre around the room due to his width, which only added to his discomfort. Where the hell was he? Why wasn't he back at his place like he should be? What the hell was going on?!

What was strange to Sans was that it seemed to be a humans apartment. How could he tell? The scent. Monsters and humans, well, everyone had distinct scents, but he could always differentiate between a monster's scent and a human's. However, this was slightly different... There was a slight buzzing of magic in the air that wasn't his own, yet he could tell that it wasn't a monster's. Despite the power of the magic he sensed, he could also tell that it wasn't a boss monster like him. What was it...?

A cough alerted him that he wasn't alone, as he looked around discreetly for the source. Sans carefully looked around the dark apartment, only to find that the nearby kitchen light was on (he could see through a small section where those in the living room could see into the kitchen, having wooden shutters that were open. He had to bend down slightly for a better view, and what he found shocked him. It looked to have been a human, and if he were to take a guess from what the human was wearing and flat chest, he presumed that the human was male.

He cursed and hissed in apparent pain, opening the cupboards and taking out a packet of chisps and a cinnamon bunny before hastily shoving them all unceremoniously into his mouth. Sighing in relief, the human leaned against the counter top, looking down towards the floor as he seemed deep in thought. Blood was smeared on his face, shirt and jacket, the swelling on his cheek that was reducing in size from the monster food healing him as he held onto his ribs. 

"Looks like you took a beating, pal." smirked Sans cockily, startling the human as they looked out into the living room only to find him towering over them. The human's confusion was, although warranted and was exactly how Sans was feeling, entirely amusing to the large skeleton. The skeleton knew that, if he wanted to, he could fit the human's tiny head into his hand with ease, popping it open like crushing a soda can. That sounded satisfying, but before Sans did anything drastic, he wanted to find out what the hell just happened.

"Who are you?"

Sans held out his hand for the man to shake. "Name's Sans."

The human hesitantly grasped his hand, Sans' own completely engulfing his. From the hand he was holding, Sans held the human in the air, satisfied when he was dangling before him. "Now then, got a reason why I'm here and not in my bed, pal?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya peeps!
> 
> Wanted to thank u for reading and your patience. Hope u all have a great day!

**Author's Note:**

> Heya peeps!
> 
> Just wanted to thank u all for reading, and I hope you all have a great day! :)


End file.
